


Wanted Force

by TheEvangelion



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Declarations Of Love, F/F, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Name-Calling, Rape Roleplay, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Roleplay, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 01:44:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11243736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvangelion/pseuds/TheEvangelion
Summary: Pacing around the heda’s bedroom, Clarke wondered if her wild roaming warlord would follow through with the thinly-veiled promise. It was a whispered, rarely spoken fantasy, one she mouthed into her furious commander’s jaw during the delicious throttled orgasm that always followed their roaring fights; how she wanted to go to war in this bedroom room and lose. How she wanted to know what it would feel like to be conquered by her brooding commander.After weeks of pushing for it, Clarke finally gets what she asks for.[TW: Non-Con Roleplay, Consent Acknowledgements Featured Throughout.]





	Wanted Force

When the sun began to set and the day retired to dusk, Clarke imagined her to be feral. Shoulders set, teeth almost bursting beneath the grind of her jaw, eyes narrowed — absolutely purposeful in their hunt through the tower, tight, wound, clenching and furious. She imagined the commander even more beautiful because of those things, like a wild roaming wolf among its dominion.

Pacing around the heda’s bedroom, Clarke wondered if her wild roaming warlord would follow through with the thinly-veiled promise. It was a whispered, rarely spoken fantasy, one she mouthed into her furious commander’s jaw during the delicious throttled orgasm that always followed their roaring fights; how she wanted to go to war in this room, and lose. Lexa would stumble, blinking and unsure, and delicious as it was to have a stalled and quiet commander between her thighs — Clarke never wasted a breath whispering her deepest aching desires to be taken beneath the commander’s hips by force until her mighty heda, apprehensive as she always was over those things, would promise that the day would come.

She hears Lexa coming, it isn’t a sound that can be confused with any other. The procession of tightly-wound footsteps closes down the hallway, the flickering glow of torches from flanking attendants seeping through the crack between the doors.

Instinctively she stood taller and made herself unconquerable, but beneath that thin veneer the exact opposite desire existed. The absolute need to be powerless and punished beneath the calloused hands of the heda, the highest of her people, supreme de-facto. 

By the time the door is made to brace against the hinges, the entire room shakes with the gust of it while the attendants are dismissed with one flank of her hand — Clarke is a flame dancing perilously close to gasoline. It feels that way, dangerous and explosive. 

Lexa’s eyes are furious, dark and molten, and Clarke steels herself against the melting point of her own lungs. Tall and staunch, the commander chews and steps forward — eyes locked and mouth tight.

“Don’t.” Clarke rolls her eyes, aware of how much her mighty heda hated that tiny act. “What I did was nothing even close to stranding you by the side of a mountain.”

“We had a treaty!” Lexa slammed her hands down on the desk, “You agreed your people wouldn’t advance through Delfi territory. Imagine my surprise when the ambassador tells me she saw your people, Bellamy, with her own eyes no less! You are _lucky_ I have not called for his head!”

“Clean running water shouldn’t be a privilege, Lexa. Two weeks and we can build a filtration system so the river water is drinkable, that’s a victory for your people too — not just mine!”

“We had an agreement!” the commander snarled and it was enough to make Clarke step backwards nervously. She would never normally do that, not even if the desire existed, not even if it was the single thing capable of stopping wars, but for her snarling heda, Clarke stepped backwards. It earned a piqued brow, an awareness that the game was in motion. “Words mean nothing to you, do they, Clarke?” Lexa said it calmly, drawing a deep breath.

“They do… but my people have to come first-”

“I come first!” she burst and closed in, the distance between their noses and heated breath measured by millimeters and mere seconds. “I am not your lover, or your friend, or your confidant Clarke! I am the commander. I, am the commander.” she emphasised and pushed her brow forward. “When I tell my clans that Skaikru kneels to me and in the same breath I am told in return that you break bloodforged treaties and go behind my back to get what you want, it isn’t deceit, it’s an act of war.” Lexa hissed through gritted teeth.

She’s beautiful like this. Ethereal and pure in her own strange way, absolutely stuck in her most ingrained duties and burdens — and all the more beautiful because of that. Clarke blinked and swallowed it, the awe of being the most aching crucial parts of themselves in this room, alone and without the eyes of the world looking upon them. 

It was because they were alone that the arguments were never really about treaties or trade agreements, they were just the thinly-veiled chess pieces used to justify all of this — all of them. Why they found themselves falling asleep next to each other more often than not. The answer should be because love is enough, but it isn’t, and it can never be — if only because they shared the same kind of burdens, the same kind of troubles and worries afforded to those with lives to account for. They had to be above human matters like love. Instead it was for peace, for treaties, for trade agreements, for carnal desire, for everything and anything but love.

And there was something freeing about the thought of being taken beneath her brooding warlord, something exciting and dirty and wanted. The mere thought of it made her feel human, as if the commander could dig deep inside of her with those calloused hands and pull out every responsibility and cross to bear.

If she couldn’t have love, Clarke could have that. Lexa could give her that.

“Without conflict, you and I have nothing.” Clarke licked her lips and said it gently, soft-eyed and trying to make her understand.

For a moment the facade is broken. Lexa smiles that rare soft smile, the one reserved for the moments when she didn’t have the world on her back and blood on her hands. It made her all the exasperated, the way a single girl could break her entire resolve with one sentence. 

“You would risk a war just to have reason to be in this room?” Lexa raised a brow, repulsed and impressed.

“I’ve done stupider things?”

“You’re either fearless or foolish.”

“Both.” Clarke gave a mirthless smile and shrugged. “My people needed clean water and you and all of your clans put together, Heda,” she stepped forward. “Cannot be more important than the needs of my people, alliance or not.”

“Alliances to your people are as temporary as the weather.” Lexa ignited once again, infuriated and gnashing her teeth. “Your acts endanger not just yourself, but me and my station!” Lexa took her with her hands and growled.

“And how do you plan to reclaim your station, commander?”

“Considering words mean nothing to you,” glaring and infuriated, she took a handful blonde hair sharply and brought Clarke beneath her nose. “You leave me with few methods.”

There’s a moment of pause, the briefest kind of hesitation, and during one heartbeat and the next Lexa uses it well, searching Clarke’s eyes for an ounce of resistance. Quickly, she pulls the brass signet ring off of her pointer finger, weighted and heavy it is. Lexa placed it on Clarke’s middle finger, the only one thick enough to hold it well.

“If you want me to stop,” Lexa nodded at the ring.

“I’ll take it off.”

“Say it, so I know you understand.”

“Believe me you’ll know if I want you to stop.” Clarke said cockily, smirking into the commander’s face, unconcerned by the fist yanking the back of her hair.

“Say it!” Lexa gritted and pulled harder.

“Ah!” Clarke gasped and closed her eyes, embarrassed at how aroused she already was. “Fine, okay. If I want you to stop I’ll take this ring off and aim for the target provided.” she tapped the golden symbol between her brows, earning a flexed jaw in the process.

“You will regret that.”

“Oh yeah?”

It was difficult to be unconquerable and fearless beneath her warlord’s nose, a fist wrapped in her hair and knees made to buckle. It was impossible to be anything else, duty and burden always remained, even in these weakest of positions.

“Did you think you wouldn’t be punished for making me look foolish?” Clarke felt a calloused hand wrap around her throat.

“Lexa-”

“Heda.” she was quickly corrected. “You need to be reminded who I am, and more importantly who and what you are.” the commander growled and flexed her jaw.

Beneath the hand squeezing her throat, the fist wrapped around the back of her hair, her feet tripping the floor while the heda dragged her across the room — Clarke felt the embers of her arousal catch alight. She fought back, each move purposeful and heavy-handed, though the commander dodged her flying hands well.

“Ah ah,” Lexa shoved her into the war table and breathed over her back, a flailing wrist caught in her grip. “Don’t think me incapable of conquering one silly girl who fell from the stars.” she hissed and pushed the trapped arm into the small of Clarke’s back until it was sore.

“Yeah?” Clarke wriggled and huffed, a hand in the back of her neck pushing her face into maps and papers. “Then you’ll remember that silly girl killed three hundred of your best warriors and an entire mountain too.” she bucked and made it difficult for her brooding warlord, kicking her thigh like an unwilling gelding.

The hiss and roar came, and then she felt Lexa’s blade press into material along her spine. That was when the kicking stopped, when the bucking and the fighting ceased and she kept herself still and huffing against the grain of the table, aroused and immersed in this game.

“Good girl, lie there like a whore.” the commander snarled and held her down, cutting her top and bra away until they were scraps of material on the floor. It was with that one fluid moment that her wrist was released and allowed to sit above her head, and Clarke felt Lexa hesitate barely, affording her the time to remove the ring off of her finger if she wanted to stop.

She didn’t, she wanted more, she wanted the worst and ugliest parts of her soft and tentative warlord. Aware that Lexa would enjoy the fight, Clarke put her own training to good use and twisted her body — arching round beneath the weight of the body on her back, spitting in Lexa’s face as she did.

“Nobody’s whore, and definitely not yours.” she reared back.

Furious, eyes alight, gritting her teeth and blushing in that particular way she did when she was mercilessly turned on — Lexa blinked and wiped the glob running down her cheek calmly. It offset Clarke. The methodicalness of it. The absolute unphased coolness in how she moved.

“Hard limit?” Clarke cringed.

“No,” Lexa flexed and smirked, eyes still alight. “I expected a challenge.”

Suddenly Clarke was in the air. Lexa picked her up over her shoulder and headed towards the bed, she stopped just shy of the blankets. Instead of the soft pillows, Clarke was laid among the chill of the cement floor.

“You want to act like an animal? I’ll treat you accordingly.” Lexa straddled the back of her legs and took the knife to the back of her belt.

It was cut away quickly, and though Clarke was still partially-dressed she felt more vulnerable than she’d ever felt before. Try as she might, Lexa’s weight trapping her on the floor was too much to shift. The leather belt was repurposed, quickly wrapped around her wrists above her head.

“Wiggle the ring.” Lexa barked as she tightened the straps, careful to make sure it could still be removed with ease.

Clarke didn’t want to touch it, didn’t even want to venture near the brass that could end this game quicker than it started. Nonetheless she submitted and did as she was told, pulling it up and down her finger to demonstrate her reach.

“Good,” Lexa nodded above her and haphazardly dropped her dagger in sight. “If you scream I will cut these off,” she traced her calloused hands along the lace underwear that peeked from her jeans, “And I will _fucking_ gag you with them.”

Clarke’s ears piqued at the curse word, aware she was the one to introduce it to the heda’s ear. It sounded strange and foreign on her tongue, all the more exciting for it too.

“Get off!” Clarke bucked and moaned as a hand slipped around the inside of her thigh.

“Already ready for me,” the commander leaned and groaned in her ear, fingers pushing into her messy excuse of a cunt through the rough material of her jeans. Clarke was already damp, already slick and aroused by this measured force. There was a small defeat in knowing she was so easily taken, so quickly rendered human by the hands of the heda above her.

“Lexa, no,” Clarke mouthed a shaky sob and gasped as her jeans were roughly ripped down her legs. "Lexa stop!" 

Lexa stopped. She paused for a moment, hands wrapped into the waist of the jeans while she pinned her willing prey beneath her. For a moment Clarke wondered whether this was the point of climax, whether the game was now finished and her tentative warlord would roll her over and make love the way she always did.

The hand came around from beneath and took her throat again, harder this time, enough so that breaths were just spluttered little gasps and Clarke’s eyes watered red. She felt herself go light-headed, felt the hot breath of a furious queen burn her neck like a midnight tempest, winced into the feeling of teeth latching into her shoulder.

“Who am I?” Lexa slapped her hard enough to make Clarke’s skin pink.

“Heda!” She yelped and sank, lips in her teeth. “You're the heda!”

Lexa leaned over her spine, calloused hand rubbing the burn out of her star-flung girl’s legs. Clarke felt her smile, right into the ridge of her shoulder, smirking and loving this. “Say it again…”

“No!” Clarke tried to fight as her underwear was ripped off her hips. Lexa spread her thighs and ran fingers through her glistening cunt, making Clarke squirm and whimper in humiliation. "I won't let you," she tried to crawl her way from underneath.

"Won't let me?" Lexa mockingly hissed from behind and pushed two fingers inside her soft achey cunt, easily. "You're dripping like a slut in heat, so wet and ripe for your heda. Say my name Clarke, tell me who I am?"

"No! Stop!" Clarke heaved and closed her eyes, disgusted with how much she loved this. Lexa pushed the third finger inside without warning or consideration and left her whimpering and stretching inelegantly, painfully almost. "Lexa! Please, please stop!" Clarke dripped with the way it felt to be ignored and subdued by the god above.

Lexa's fingers made a whore of her and moved with careful precision, they thrusted inside hard enough to hit the back of her cervix, to pound her, to make her feel entirely and completely subdued and owned, and yet with every thrust they curled and rolled into the soft tissue behind her clitoris that made for earth shattering orgasms.

“Say it, Clarke. Say it before I give you a real reason to cry." Lexa warned.

“You're the commander!” Clarke wept and gasped shamefully, pushing back on her hips against the commander.

Her orgasm was close, it was building within the low tide of her stomach. Lexa withdrew her fingers and left her devastatingly empty.

Lexa was slow, purposeful, every motion of her body as thought out and planned as an act of battle. In some small way it was a war, a game of conquer and be conquered, and Clarke played it beautifully. She was careful not to push too far. Each second spent studying and mapping the things that made Clarke ache and buck now put to good use in this testing ground.

Lexa grabbed her nipples first, squeezed and twisted them like ripe persimmons between her fingers. It was enough to make her sore girl buck into her waiting hips.

“Already eager for me?” the commander said with the hint of a genuine smile, wrapping a hand into her thigh and pulling back until Clarke sat into her open hips.

“Heda, please don't!” Clarke winced into the pinch of her nipple, sobbing and biting her bottom lip.

It was painful. It was sharp in the way thorns and brambles inflict quick scratches, and in the same way, just as natural too. Sore as it was Clarke quickly learned to love it, repulsed and ashamed as she was, arousal dripped down her thighs like honey with each slow burn of her captured nipples.

“You will take everything your heda gives you,” Lexa made her voice concrete; detached and solid the way she was outside of this room. It felt different now though. Now there was a trust and intimacy to it, an unspoken promise that she was more Lexa than she'd ever been allowed to be before.

“You won’t beat me at this-”

Lexa grinned as she ducked the slap, sobering herself quickly, biting away her smile, she pinned Clarke against the cold floor and trapped her legs open. Always mindful to watch her hands, particularly that heavy brass ring.

“I’ve already won.” she forced three fingers inside of her cunt again with no resistance.

For a moment, a split second between an inhale and a gasp, the entire world was devoid of noise. All that remained beneath that total void was them, eyes wide open and stuck in this game.

Lexa dragged her mouth along the hung cheek beneath her, scissoring her fingers and making every inch of them count. “Look how open you are for me, you just fall open like a whore begging to be filled. Is that what I'm doing wrong, Clarke? Am I not giving you enough to keep you quiet?" She teased the other two fingertips around the crown of her cunt, daring to push her fist inside.

Clarke threw her head back with an aroused sob, desperate to drag this game out to its aching guts. Tentatively she brought her bound hands down the galley of her body, her knees canted open and holding her on all fours. Her slow moving, tied, bound, hands caught a finger at first, the commander's pointer, the one she used to trace wisps of gold hair off of her face when she thought Clarke was asleep. It was a tender and small act, one that stalled the brooding warlord.

“Heda,” she ached and hung off her finger with two hands and her whole heart, forced to be small in all the ways that made her human, "Please let me cum, show me how mighty you are,” She whimpered, barely able to peer over her shoulder with those cornflower eyes.

By the time Lexa growled and slammed inside of her, hand throttling her throat while the other gave Clarke more than she could take, by the time she was made to stretch and weep, stuck on all fours with her cunt made to accommodate, by the time she was made insignificant and small; Clarke closed her eyes and allowed herself to be the most boiled down parts of herself until all that was left was desire for the carnal.

Beneath the commander there was no room for mountains or slain, not a single breath tinged with contemplation for kingdoms, armies, or trade.

“That’s it,” Lexa groaned in a way that was untempered and her, “give in to me, say it.” she spanked Clarke in quick succession until open-mouthed cries ached the room and each hip sank further apart in the heat of desire.

Lexa fucked her well, made each thrust an entire conquest—hand wrapped around her throat and fingers delving deep inside the quivering flesh that dripped for her dark and brooding heda, so mighty and above the world in her red and gold.

“I give in commander, I'll lie here and let you take me, I'll be your good girl,” Clarke moaned and felt warm breath along the back of her neck, followed with gentle kisses if only because the heda, the mighty, the regimented warlord was still not of strong enough resolve to subdue Lexa during these games.

“So much for the commander of death,” Lexa sneered a soft chuckle, thrusting inside her cunt relentlessly until all that Clarke became was a series of wailing moans.

Clarke wanted to agree, wanted to lie there and nod and buck back on the hand between her thighs and let the truth be known that she wasn’t the unconquerable leader, forged of war, like everyone though. She was a woman. An artist. A delinquent.

A lost girl flung from the stars.

“I'm not Wanheda,” Clarke wept into the floor and gave in.

“Who are you?”

“I'm…”

“Say it!”

“The commander’s whore.” she hung and moaned.

“No.” Lexa said it certainly and pushed the pads of her fingers down into the spot of Clarke's cunt that made her weak, “I didn’t ask _what_ you were, you little foolish beautiful girl, I asked _who_ you were.” she thrusted again and earned a choked moan.

“I’m just a girl.”

“Just a girl?” the commander asked again, almost confused.

“Just a girl, that’s all commander. One girl.”

“Mhm,” Lexa nodded and tried so desperately to keep up this game. It was hard, and against her best efforts Lexa caved once again, hanging over the spine in front of her with soft kisses to every bit of hot skin available. “And what a girl you are.” she whispered, awestruck.

The ring was flung off so fast that the clatter of it hitting the window was the first thing Lexa knew of its whereabouts. Immediately she stopped. Immediately. Pushing herself back, swallowing nervously, she crept around to the curled ball on the floor to release the belt around her wrists, “Clarke, it’s alright,” she whispered nervously, guilty and repulsed that she found enjoyment from this game. “I will never do that to you again—”

“Make love to me.” Clarke locked eyes and crawled forward hungrily. “Please, take me to bed, and make love to me. Just once. Like we're both just boring ordinary girls.”

Safe in her grounder’s arms with legs slipping around the small of her back, she was taken to the bed, laid out over furs and pillows that were too grand and plenty. There were not words from the beautiful draw of her earth girl’s mouth, just the long slow blink of her green eyes, absolutely enthralled and captivated with everything before her.

Lexa sucked her nipples, each one of them into the heat of her gnashing mouth until they were stiff and pink. It was still rushed, still forceful and urgent and absolutely out of Clarke’s control… but it was different this time. Lexa held her hands either side of the blankets tenderly with her calloused thumbs pressed into each palm, humming, kissing, moving down the softness of Clarke’s body until it was no longer hers, but Lexa’s property.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, infuriating, but beautiful…”

“I try.” Clarke smiled and panted as a hand slipped home between her vulva once again.

“Ah,” Lexa raised a brow, “So this is how I keep you behaved? Tie you up and then take you to bed?”

“I mean… in theory…”

Lexa just shook her head and dove between each slow moving thigh, mouth wrapped around her clitoris. It was enough to make hands find purchase in Lexa’s hair, fingers digging into each side of her skull desperately as her tenderest skin was pulled gently into the hollows of her mouth.

“Lex-” Clarke stopped, looked at her for confirmation.

“Lexa,” she smiled, “Just Lexa now.”

Clarke sighed and nodded into the tongue that worked her expertly, fingers tracing her strings until she vibrated and played like a violin. It was the amalgamation of everything. The burn around her wrists where the belt had been. The taste of blood on her lip where she was made to bite against each thumping slap to her ass, and, most importantly, the tender gentle warlord — now more girl than beast, softly lapping and sucking at her core.

“Just a girl,” Lexa repeated to herself, still awestruck and amazed by this star-flung creature splayed in her bed. “So much trouble for just one girl…”

“You have no idea how hard I try.” Clarke chuckled and lost herself to another moan, one big enough to make her brows pinch.

Lexa did the thing. That particular, amazing, delicious thing. The one where she pushed inside without warning and took her entire core, lips and all, inside the hollows of her mouth at the same time. It was enough to make her whimper in relief.

She tried not to crush the commander, it was a desperate fleeting hold she held over her snapping hips but somehow she kept them still.

But then Lexa did the other thing. The one where she pushed her thighs back and held them exactly like that so she could eat hungrily, messily, devouring every hard to reach spot and untended delicious inch — determined to love and devour every bit of it.

It was enough to make her thighs develop their own sentience, enough to make them jump and flex and fight against the grip. Lexa didn’t let her go easily, buried between the nook of each thigh with hands barely succeeding at keeping her still — she loved her faster, harder, deeper, until her star-flung creature finally snapped.

Clarke came like a natural disaster, beautiful and terrifying, whimpering, bucking, sobbing, dying, grinding into the relentless mouth between her legs. Lexa just held on tight and made herself fit for purpose — hands stuck behind each of her kneecaps and mouth wrapped around her punished clitoris. 

She didn't come down, stuck in her orgasm, she rode and trembled and bucked, but Lexa refused to concede — hands holding her still and mouth working her expertly. The extent of her observations and study completely revealed.

Eventually, sore and satiated, Clarke collapsed backwards into the pillows and the gentle beastling between her thighs released her now-useless legs. It was the blonde hair caught in her face that made her look like a godling, Lexa was sure of that. Nonetheless she kept her mouth closed and crawled up the bed, kissing hips and belly and breasts along the way.

“How are you so good at that…”

“Your whimpers tell stories, and I listen.” Lexa shrugged and collapsed too, throwing her coat into a heap on the floor.

There were tears in Clarke’s eyes. It was the glistening pearls that made Lexa change her mind, she wasn't a godling at all. She was a girl, they both were, human and fallible and in need of love too.

“I should go before anyone sees—”

“I love you.” Lexa cleared her throat, regretting it instantly. “I wish I could give you those words beyond this room but I can't. All I can hope is that this room is enough to keep you,”

Clarke kissed her suddenly, lurched into her arms and knocked her on to her back, kissed her relentlessly until for one searing moment the entire world was owned and ruled by normal ordinary girls.

“Does this mean you won’t tie me up again? I liked it when you did that…”

“Always more of that.” Lexa decided with a short nod, wrapping her arms around the melting girl on her chest.

“Good.” Clarke yawned and nuzzled into the spot of warm neck that always smelled of the outdoors.

“Good?”

“Yeah.” Clarke smiled, “Cus’ I love you too.”

 

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